


Tears and Returns - Thranduil

by writingsofa_hobbit



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Heartbreak, Heavy Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-02 09:16:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11506335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingsofa_hobbit/pseuds/writingsofa_hobbit
Summary: The reader, Thranduil's wife, and Thranduil get into a fight after the reader disobeys Thranduil's orders to keep her safe. This leads to the reader leaving Mirkwood and Thranduil behind.





	1. Tears of Ache and Sorrow - Thranduil

**Author's Note:**

> There will be a part two to this later, I just haven't written it yet. Also, I didn't proof read this too thoroughly, so I apologize in advance.

The warm hues that graced the leafy petioles upon the trees' thin finger-like branches had finally returned to Mirkwood's great forests at the first caress of autumn. The southerly summer breezes began to originate rather in a more northerly direction, the swiftness of those winds increasing noticeably as the considerable warmth of the summer breezes turned cold and arid, and the sunlight growing ever golden as the shadow's of Arda's inhabitants stretched to unmatched lengths with the sinking of the sun.

The commencement of all those tell-tale attributes gave way to a lightening of my mood and a warming of my spirit, for they marked a change in the overly warm, moist weather that accompanied the summer months into the colder, more comely season of harvest.

It was not so long ago that I had strolled peaceably through the maturing forests with my lovely husband, King Thranduil. There was a certain location, hidden within the depths of the foliage, not far from the reach of the halls of my home, where I always used to go to free a bit of myself. It was there I could allow my soul to run unburdened among the beautiful foliage, where I had enjoyed moments that still remained sweet in memory, where I had relished in the undying, unconditional love my husband had for me.

But sadly, those fond memories had taken place before the infestation of spiders, orcs and the like, before the spirit of the forest grew heavy under the burden of the increasing evils that had begun to possess every form of vegetation within the forest's boundaries, before Greenwood the Great took on a more infamous, unflattering title, Mirkwood. Mirkwood, whose decaying, morbid trees held an unwanted, sinister aura that not even its inhabitants wanted to gaze upon. Now, the forest, and that perfectly serene locale that I longed to see, was infested with horrors not fit for the eyes of the Queen of Mirkwood, or so Thranduil had said when he forbade me to wander the woods that laid just beyond the walls of Mirkwood's palace, when he precluded any of the melancholic spirits of the residing elves from returning to the woodland that had served as our home as well as our comfort all those years ago.

If only I could make my way past the multitude of guards who swarmed the halls in pairs... oh if only I could escape! Perhaps then I could take pleasure in the varying shades of leaves and grasses and shrubberies that made up my desired destination, if only for a brief time, if only for a moment. I could make my fleeting departure after my daily, midday meetings with my beloved Thranduil, in which we would feast on whatever Mirkwood's cooks provided for luncheon and return before dinner. And provided that my ever diligent husband would be rendered useless to me in a meeting with the incompetent imbeciles that made up his council between those two periods, it would never come to his knowledge that I had disobeyed his orders and made my way outside of the safety of his kingdom's halls.

But then, as my thin fingered hand drifted to my swollen abdomen, the ever present danger I would be putting myself and the child that grew within me in returned to my conscience, making my spirits dip ever lower.

What if something were to happen to me and our child, I thought, imagining the pain, the suffering and the sorrow my dearly beloved husband would experience in my eternal absence, the heartbreak that would befall him and his ever so fragile, heavily guarded heart. He would never forgive me for losing myself and the wonderful life, the combination of our passionate love, that was within a month or so of being brought into the world in which their parents resided.

Finally, after what seemed to be an age of consideration and scrutiny, I decided that a small, leisurely stroll through the forests whose every life form whispered my aliases with the sweetest tone could and would not hurt anyone. Oh, how utterly wrong I had been.

-

The ends of my cloak were serpents in the rushes and my footsteps were the soft taps of falling pebbles against the polished floors of Mirkwood's halls as I made my way to the location of my planned exit. Upon my arrival, I carefully slipped past the confines of the Mirkwood palace and into the delicate safety of the forest, my haven that was bathed in the golden sunlight that pervaded the slowly decaying veil of foliage who's colors were that of the richest crimson wine, the most vibrant amber in a sunset and the deepest hue of fresh and fertile soil that could only truly be found at the peak of springtime. It was into this beckoning and most tranquil forest I stepped, unaware of the fury that I would meet upon my return.

-

"The infestations of arachnids at our borders has only multiplied at least by thrice in the past season alone, both due to the time we have spent debating their eradication and to the excessive warmth the forest experienced this summer," a member of my council squawked, yet again expressing the exaggerated danger of the foul creatures who laid beyond my reach, and therefore are not a concern of mine. I would not waste the blood of my people on the unlikely obliteration of the species.

"For the last time, Arradon," I hissed, the venom of my thoughts clear upon my tongue, "you have stated that they are beyond our borders, and therefore beyond my concern, care, and power. If you wish to maintain your position on this council, I suggest you hold your tongue."

"But, my king Thranduil-"

"What did, I just tell you?" I spat, anger boiling the blood in my veins and the venom turning to ice at the touch of my words, "I will defend my people when the threat is on their lands, but not before! Their blood will not grace a ground that is not their own! Council adjourned!"

My footsteps were lighter than a feather against the oaken steps of my throne as I descended and stormed from the room, desperately seeking the comfort and love my wife and queen, my beloved Y/N, provided. It was within her gentle and most caring embrace that I could be at peace. It was there my heart was heaviest with love for the woman who always held me with such reverence, it was there I could breathe an unburdened breath, it was there I could be truly and wholly happy.

The recent memory of her radiant smiling face I had obtained during our daily luncheon swam vividly in my mind and kissed my thoughts with kindness, as I made it to our chambers and unlocked the door with a calm delicacy, a gentleness that was instantly shattered when I found the said room empty and cold with the sweet gentleness, or rather the lack thereof, of my Y/N.

"Y/N?" I called, my voice sounding like that of a scared child, a noise which I instantly scolded myself for using.

"Y/N," I called once more, my voice ever so slightly harsher than before, a tone I used many more times as I called her name over and over again, panic cracking my voice as tears filled my eyes.

Oh, darling, where are you? I thought as I dashed back down the hallway looking for a guard, any ellon or elleth who may have seen my dearest Y/N. The first guard I found, the poor fellow, was so terrified he seemed as if he had been smacked with the hand of fear itself and had never fully recovered. "Y/N, my Y/N, the queen, have you seen her?" I asked, despair seeping into my voice as the tears blurred my vision into a distorted, and most terrifying version of reality, one which did not contain my sweet Y/N, who, to me, was worth more than all of Varda's elegant stars and Yavanna's beautiful earth.

"I apologize, my king, but I thought I saw someone who looked like the queen making leave out of the west entrance," the guard stammered, sheer terror crossing his features as my face darkened considerably.

"No one, especially the queen who carries my heir, the heir to Mirkwood, has the permission to leave the walls of this kingdom, no one!" I howled, before racing to the stables, "the fact that you neglected to stop her, or whomever it was leaving my kingdom, proves your inadequacy. Consider this your last day in your position, and in Mirkwood, for that matter."

My heart, once heavy with love, now turned rather to a raging sea of dire fury, my mind blurring into an uneasy haze as I raced to the stables and then to the one place I hoped Y/N would be.

-

The sun was beginning to set, its golden rays filtering through the canopy of leaves above and into the little clearing, kissing my skin with lips sweeter than honey, a calm breeze sweeping through the forest, ruffling my H/C hair. A crimson leaf danced about my fingers as I fiddled with it, its edges waving about in the breeze, the rays of sun just barely shining through it, revealing the tiny veins beneath its reddened surface.

I sighed, wishing Thranduil could have accompanied me like he had many a time before. Thoughts of his strong arms holding me fondly to him beneath the great oaks of Mirkwood, laughing as we threw small piles of leaves at one another and splashed about in the forest's very lifelines, the babbling brooks whose reach extended to every root in Mirkwood's soil. Perhaps one day, Thranduil, our child and I could once again return to the forests occasionally, to wander through its expanses and enjoy the experiences hidden within.

Just as I began to smile at the thought, a familiar figure burst from the treeline, rage pouring from him as if it were mist from an ocean, pure, silent fury hung densely in his eyes as he immediately dismounted his elk, and stormed his way over to my sitting figure.

"Oh, Thranduil," I stammered, his silence beginning to scare me, for I had only seen the look he wore once before when a particularly idiotic counselor even dared to voice his opinions, "I-I meant to be back before you were out of your meeting."

"Why were you even gone in the first place?" Thranduil fumed, his voice deathly quiet and saturated with venom, his "you know that this forest is dangerous... poisoned even."

"I-I couldn't help it! I-I just missed the forest so much, and I couldn't resist coming here, especially now that the seasons have changed," I babbled, my voice faltering, failing me, in absolute fear.

"So you thought it best to go behind my back, risk the safety of you and our child, all because you missed the forest?" Thranduil question, his voice rising in volume, "you do not even have a weapon in your possession, in case something were to happen. Your actions were foolish and selfish, Y/N. You are a queen, not a child, please act like one."

I felt anger boiling my blood as Thranduil's words dug into my heart and ripped it to shreds, tears beginning to form in my eyes as I proceeded to scold my husband with as much fury as he had me.

"I'm the selfish one?" I asked, a hint of annoyance in my voice as to not upset Thranduil more, "if you weren't so selfish, so blind to anyone else's problems but your own, you would have seen how desperate I have been, you wouldn't have ignored my pleas for an escort to the forest! This is as much your fault as it is mine... meleth nin."

The endearment that usually graced my tongue with sweetness and love was now spat from my lips as an insult, teeming with bitterness, and I instantly regretted it as Thranduil only became angrier.

"The reason I have ordered our people to stay out of the forest is to protect them, to make sure the safety of their lives and the lives of their families. If you were a proper queen, you would have realized that the decisions I make are for the good of our people and ourselves," Thranduil screamed, the tears that had formed in my eyes finally falling onto my cheeks.

"If I'm not a proper queen, then perhaps I should just leave. Then you could make your decisions on your own, and not have to worry about me and my childish selfishness," I retorted, hoping this would change Thranduil's mind. I truly didn't want to leave, I could never want to leave my home and my husband, but I was desperate, and my mind was clouded by grief.

"Perhaps you should," Thranduil spat harshly, his words only eliciting heart breaking sobs from my lips as I turned away from the ellon whom I loved with all my heart and soul, the one I would always regret leaving.

As I ran off into the forest, tears staining my face, I thought of Thranduil. I thought of how he had flinched ever so slightly when my sobs had reached his ears, how I swear I had seen tears surface in the eyes I loved so dearly. But what I had done, what I had said was already behind me and now I had nothing to do but run... run away from all my heart had ever known, all my shattered and mutilated heart had ever and would ever love. Little did I know, that as my heart fell into an endless hole of grief, pain, and sorrow, my husband, my dearest Thranduil, was back upon the floor of our once shared chambers, sobbing and clutching my wedding ring, the ring I had left upon my bedstand, close to his chest, close to his heart that was just as riddled with pain, just as sick with bereavement, misery and contrite as mine was. His sobs would be echoing throughout all of Mirkwood, and the tears that drowned both our eyes were the tears of the heartbroken and the heartsick... they were the tears of ache and sorrow.


	2. Returns of Regret and Rekindled Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil searches Middle Earth for the reader, only to find her and Esgaroth and beg for her forgiveness and for her to come home.

The thousands of crimson leaves of the harvest season had now browned and fallen to the ground and the air had now become cold and unforgiving. The frozen leaves were thousands of ice sheathed knives, each one stabbing into my heart as they reminded me of the love I once lost and the love I still longed for with all of my broken heart and empty soul. The newborn child in my arms was no less of a reminder of the ellon whom with I had brought such a beautiful creation, our daughter, to life. The fairest platinum curls wreathed my daughter’s head, her soft pale skin radiant in the muted winter sunlight. She was a spitting image of her father… her father… her father would have loved her with all his heart, I just know he would have. 

After I had run from Thranduil that afternoon in the woods, I had come to live in Esgaroth with the only friend I had outside of Mirkwood. Esgaroth was a small, dingy town that hovered on rotting wooden beams above the cold surface of the Long Lake. Esgaroth was the closest place to home I could find without still being in the forest where my heart had perished in a flurry of pain and sorrows. 

The death of my heart was a loss I still mourned for deeply. 

-

Weeks went by, sleepless, painful weeks that I had spent every moment of scouring every inch of the land, searching and longing for my darling Y/N, my queen, and my child she had carried within. For weeks, I had cried myself to sleep, only to be awakened in the night by the harsh coldness of her absence, the tears returning to my eyes afterward. Weeks of a continuous routine… search, cry, sleep and cry… search, cry, sleep and cry. It was a never ending circle of grief and pain, a circle only able to be broken by the forgiveness of my Y/N, my love and my life, my exquisite star, my queen.

I would not rest till I found her. If I had to sail to Valinor to do so, I would. If I had to trek to Mordor itself, I would. I would not rest until she was found, and brought safely back into my arms.

\- 

The clouds that shrouded the land from the muted winter sunlight were just as dark as the murmurings in the streets of Esgaroth’s Merchant’s districts. As each item was traded for pieces of gold and silver, bits of the same story were traded as well, a story that told of an Elvenking coming to Esgaroth in search of his wife and his newborn child. He came for her in fury, some said. Others said in grief, and more still said in hopes of winning her back. 

Any of those could have been true, although, why Thranduil would come for me at all scared me senseless. I had hurt him deeply, I knew, and why he would still love someone as “selfish” as me, was beyond my comprehension. 

So, it was with this endless fear cowering in my heart and the whispers lingering not only on the tongues of merchants and customers but also in my mind, that I strolled through the streets, searching with dull eyes for thyme, basil and any other spice that would be needed for the next week’s suppers. 

-

I rapped twice on the old door of my friend, Faeleth’s dwelling before opening the door and stepping over the threshold and into the little house, the basket in my arms sprouting with herbs of different varieties, scents, and flavors. As soon as the door was shut and locked, Faeleth’s wild eyes met mine and she abandoned her cooking to rush to my side. 

“Are the rumors true? Is he here?” I whispered, my calm heart beats turning rather fearful. 

“Yes, they are,” Faeleth whispered, her kind hands finding my shoulders as she leaned close, her voice betraying her undeniable worry for me, “he’s in your chambers. Shall I tell him to leave you be?”

“No, mellon,” I replied, giving her a brief but saddened smile, “I should speak to him. I owe him that.”

“If that’s what you think is best, then I’ll let you,” she sighed, her posture straightening ever so slightly, “best of luck.”

“Thank you,” I nodded, my feet padding softly down a small hallway, the little door at the end of it ajar ever so slightly, a strip of pale white light seeping out. The closer I came to the door, the faster my mind searched, the more desperately it clawed, and the more it pleaded for words to say to him, to my husband who was so close to me, yet so… so far away. 

I opened the door silently, my heart breaking at the sight it protected.

Thranduil stood next to our daughter’s crib, his head bent downward, his hair falling elegantly down his muscled chest and back. The tips of his long fingers shook as they hovered above the sides of her crib. He was like her guardian angel, watching lovingly from afar, yet so terrified to touch her, so afraid to break her. A single tear glistened as it fell from his pale cheekbones and into the crib, glistening in the pale light from the window as it made its short lived descent. 

“Hallothiel,” I murmured in the steadiest voice I could. Thranduil looked to me with a longing so full of heartbreak and sorrow that the tears that formed in my eyes were ones of pure regret, and the ones that now fell uncontrollably down his soft features full of lost love, “her name is Hallothiel.”

“Hallothiel… ‘hidden flower.’ You remembered,” Thranduil sighed, the memory of late nights spent conversing and arguing playfully about names swimming vividly in both our memories. Thranduil’s gaze found the cherubic face of the sleeping child again before his remorse-burdened irises reconnecting with mine, “by the Valar… she’s so beautiful.”

Oh how I had missed his honeyed voice, his silk woven words, his deep, calming utterances. 

“She looks identical to you, you know?” Thranduil asked, his voice still so hushed and the tears still cascading as I approached Thranduil at the side of our daughter’s bed. 

“In all but the hue of her hair, skin, and eyes… I do suppose she is,” I replied in an almost saddened tone. My feet came to a stop beside Thranduil, our trembling hands mere inches away from touching in the tense silence that ensued, “and of course I remembered.”

How I wished this moment wasn’t so shadowed by grief and loss. How I wish the three of us were back in Mirkwood, in our own chambers. Thranduil and I would fawn over our little creation, our little Hallothiel and she would smile up at us in return, giggling in the sweet way she had only once before. How I longed so deeply, so wholly for that, and the knowledge that there was a strong possibility I couldn’t, made the tears in my eyes cascade down my face in torrents. 

“I’m so sorry, Thranduil,” I sobbed softly, my hands covering my eyes as that would solve the problem that presented its horrid face to me, to my husband, to our family, “I’m so… so sorry.”

“Oh, Y/N,” Thranduil lamented, his familiar hands taking mine into their warm embrace and gently guiding them away from my tear soaked face. His dismal irises screamed of the remorse and grief he felt, of the sorrows he had endured in my absence, “it is I who should be apologizing to you, meleth nin.”

“But why?” I asked, “I was so wrapped up in what I wanted, that I didn’t realize how upset that would have made you, and I didn’t even take into account the safety of our child. And to make matters worse, I ran like a foolish child rather than working it out with you. Valar, how can you be so calm about this? How could you want me back?”

“Because it is I who is at fault, not you. Because I still love you with all my heart and soul. I want you back because my soul is still bonded to yours in more than just marriage, because my heart longs to be with you and it aches deeply when I’m not. And besides… now we have a child. We have an actual living being that we created, together. And by the Valar… she’s so beautiful, and she deserves the world. She deserves both her parents, not just one or the other,” Thranduil confessed, his eyes filling with tears again as his face darkened with the unrealistic doubt that I would never return his feelings because he had convinced himself that this was all his fault.

“You were right,” Thranduil continued, “I should have seen how desperate you were, how saddened you had become. I should have realized and I should have accompanied you into the forest, I should have taken care of the one who means the most to me, the one who holds my heart with the sweetest hands. And I understood why you ran. If I hadn’t yelled at you and berated you with the cruelest and most untrue insults, if I had just talked to you like a civilized being, you never would have left.”

Thranduil stepped away from me ever so slightly and sunk onto one knee, one hand digging through his pocket until he found and brought out a ring, my ring that he had given to me on the day of our marriage, the little band fashioned to resemble a single, petite silver flower upon a plait of little silver vines. His other hand still had mine in its delicate grip, his thumb running well-trodden circles about my knuckles as he continued on, “Y/N, I felt so miserable without you… I still feel so miserable knowing that there is a chance you will not return home with me. I cannot go on without you, I truly can’t. Can you ever find it in your preciously beautiful heart to forgive me? Could you find it in yourself to come back with me to Mirkwood? Can you be my wife, my queen, my flower of my heart, once more?”

“Oh, Thranduil,” I sniffed, bending down to his level on the wooden floor, my eyes watering profusely, “you are always forgiven, always. And of course, I can. Of course, I want to be yours again. Of course, I want to return home with you… Hallothiel and I both.”

It was in that moment, as Thranduil’s tears fell, his face glowing with the widest smile I had ever seen grace his lips, he slipped the ring back onto my finger where it belonged, before pressing a long, sweet kiss to my fingers. When he straightened again, he looked into my eyes for a brief moment before his strong arms enveloped me fervently, pulling me close to him. The familiarity of the comfort of his arms around my waist, the feeling of his fingers running through my hair and up and down the length of my back, his subtle warmth against my own was enough to make me happier than I had been in the past year or so. 

“Oh, guren vell,” Thranduil sighed, his voice soft and cracking with the emotion that overwhelmed not only my heart but his as well, “thank you. I swear to Illuvatar… I will never let you go. Never again.”

“And I will never leave ever again,” I vowed, pulling out of the embrace ever so slightly to encase Thranduil’s face in my hands, to rest my forehead against his own, “I promise.”

“Come then, darling,” Thranduil cooed as he brushed my cheek with the back of a single one of his elegant fingers, “let us return home.”


End file.
